


The Doctor's Sister

by orphan_account



Series: That Butler, Eviscerated [1]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Aftercare, Eye Gouging, F/F, Guro, Medical Kink, Organplay, Vivisection, psuedo-incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-11 22:49:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7073680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> Angelina stared down at her hands as she made her rounds inside of Grelle. The could be sisters, something whispered in the back of her mind. They could be sisters if not for that half-lidded cat's-eye gaze Grelle had. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Doctor's Sister

First incision from the space between the collarbones down to just past the navel. Angelina was precise, she always was. One incision along the top and one along the bottom, perpendicular lines that let her open up the flesh easier. Blood welled up, running onto the steel table as Angelina opened up her subject.  
And Grelle moaned at the feeling.   
Angelina had been in and out of operating theatres enough to know how to slice through skin, fat, muscle. And she could do nothing but stare for a long moment. Scalpel was replaced by a saw, just to open the ribs and set them to the side. Then, she allowed herself to stare for a long moment.   
Like everything about Grelle, her heat beat in a slower rhythm, something definitely inhuman. He lungs twitched when her breath hitched, everything just pulsing and alive in such an inhuman way.  
Angelina, with gloved hands (Gloved because she doubted having dried blood under her nails would be polite), cupped Grelle's lungs. For a moment, she simply cupped them, knowing exactly what Grelle liked, what made her squirm until the rope dug into her wrists, threatening to make her hands bleed.   
She was curious. Angelina knew she could simply crush the flesh under her hands into pulp, sending Grelle into a deathly state of sleep. But she refrained. This was about pleasure tonight, not pain.  
She continued to stroke Grelle's lungs until the other could hardly stand it. Her cries grew desperate but Angelina simply puled her hands away.  
She cupped Grelle's heart, feeling the thrum of life in her hand. It was warm and Angelina, for one awful moment, wanted to sink her teeth into it, feel the rush of blood in her mouth. Instead, she caressed the thing like a bird. Bored of it, she set Grelle's heart down, back in it's proper place.  
Her hands wandered, prodding _here_ and pressing _there_ and massaging _that spot there._   
Angelina stared down at her hands as she made her rounds inside of Grelle. The could be sisters, something whispered in the back of her mind. They could be sisters if not for that half-lidded cat's-eye gaze Grelle had.  
Without realizing it, the scalpel was in her hand and she brought it down into Grelle's eye with such force that she saw the gasp leave Grelle before she heard it. She did the other one, selfishly demanding some symmetry. Angelina was panting and she hadn't noticed it until now.   
She had seen each eye pop and leak fluid. Pink ran down the sides of Grelle's face as she cried out their safeword. Angelina had no choice but to leave her wrists bound until she finished closing her up.

Once she had been stiched shut, Angelina washed Grelle carefully. She made sure to wipe away the blood, put ointment on her wrists, wrap her abdomen.  
Something masochistic demanded she save tending to Grelle's eyes last. And, while Grelle couldn't see Angelina, she turned her face in her direction.  
“I'm sorry.”  
“Don't be,” Grelle said. “I was just . . . surprised.”  
Angelina decided not to comment on Grelle's hesitation.  
“You're probably better off cutting them out completely,” Grelle mused.   
Angelina took her face in both hands, inspecting the damage. “You're right.”  
Grelle perked up at Angelina running a blade near her face. She held still, as though Angelina was applying lipstick instead of cutting out her ruined eyes. She heard the wet sound of viscera falling onto the tiled floor and cringed, knowing it would have to be cleaned up soon.  
“Red?”  
Angelina hummed, focused on the mess in Grelle's left socket, scraping and cutting out as much as she could.  
“I didn't mind it. Just warn me next time.”  
Angelina set the scalpel in the sink, kissing Grelle's forehead. “I promise.”


End file.
